


learn how to fly

by jenlvbug



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Ballet, Developing Friendships, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, M/M, Performing Arts, Rivalry, Slice of Life, a bit spicy i guess, ballet dancers, dancers struggles, life of a dancer, mentions of body shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29025765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenlvbug/pseuds/jenlvbug
Summary: “Why are you helping me?”.“I like competition”. Donghyuck gives him a brief sly smile, wanders his eyes around before they settle on Renjun. “And it’s too easy if you suck”.“Mh, I’ll take the compliment”. Renjun winks, stretching his back before picking up his bag to leave. In Donghyuck’s language, to which he is particularly familiar,  this means he’s good. Talented to be considered competition, and they have always been the two top students, stealing each other’s opportunities with fair or less fair ways.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan
Comments: 12
Kudos: 98





	learn how to fly

**Author's Note:**

> oh my... hi!
> 
> i finished my exams and had a free day to write renhyuck as ballet dancers. i wanted to for the longest time, and i'm very happy (and nervous!!) now i did it properly without giving them only a few side stories as in my old works . so here it is, and i hope this is enough to entertain you. enjoy!

Renjun remembers the first time he stepped inside the ballet academy. He was six, some other mothers from the unorganized propaedeutic dance classes he used to attend at the local gym with his kindergarten friends found a professional ballet school nearby. Renjun, to follow his bestest friends back in the days, stepped into a completely different environment, unaware it was going to be his second home for the next years of his life.

The first thing he remembers was the silence. After crossing a first narrow corridor where a nice old lady gave his mother papers for him to attend the free trial lesson, everything outside the different rooms with sliding thick glass doors of an opaque green was completely still. A vending machine, a few small couches and parquet everywhere in the slightly larger cube of space of a waiting room. 

The practice rooms glass doors only allow shadows to be visible, following exercises and jumping with tense and arched insteps higher to the rhythm of a piano sequence before gravity forces you to come down. 

Being quiet. As the propaedeutic class assistant of his very first teacher required the kids to be as they were changing into some not entirely appropriate clothes for class, everyone still had to adjust to the academy's rules. His first uniform was a short sleeved white leotard, black shorts and ballet shoes he had to dress up in complete silence or whispers as he and his friends kept coming for the first month of class.

Renjun was one of the quieter kids, and here comes his first memory of Lee Donghyuck. The boys changing room was surely smaller than the girls’, considering they were and still are smaller in number at the academy. Smaller rooms make it easier to find the object of chaos, and Donghyuck was sure one of the louder ones. 

That's when his teacher, Lisa, a woman always with her hair up and black character dance shoes walking in the room explained to the little dancers that silence means discipline. And discipline was going to be their closest friend to aim for success, Renjun learned soon. 

Lisa was extremely right, Renjun never forgot. Showing up on time after school without losing time watching cartoons or playing at the park with all the kids, uniform impeccable, listening to your teacher and music well without complaining. He remembers some girls coming with wobbly chignons, not enough bobby-pins falling to long hair on their short spines. Instead of making mothers adjust to the needed hairstyles, Lisa taught the girls since they were young how to do their own chignon. She taught them boys as well, Renjun sometimes did Yeri’s hair during recess in elementary school for practice.

Renjun remembers his friends slowly leaving after a few weeks or to a later extent the next month, mothers complaining about it being an environment too serious for children that wouldn't stimulate their minds and only tire them. Or to less complications, some kids just didn't want to dance anymore — kids do it often, changing minds and hobbies. 

That’s how Chenle eventually started doing basketball, Jisung waited until he was the right age to take hip hop classes, and you could catch Jaemin and Jeno in the contemporary dance rooms, two aces well known in the academy now they’re older. And Mark became interested in music and sometimes he says one day he’ll write a contemporary piece for them. They hold onto it, more as a memory, Mark is miles away working these last few years and he won’t come back soon.

Professional ballet follows and requires standards — from how flexible you are, your insteps supposed to arch perfectly and naturally, some physical characteristics that if you are born with, you're considered easily shapeable into a great dancer.

No one here wants to be just great. They all want more that will never be enough, powered by perfectionism that never makes you stop practicing, painfully bending until you don't feel your bones as yours anymore. They're completely given to a contorted passion to suffer in order to achieve; and when you're the one to achieve, who receives attention and is considered good in a war zone made of parquet and a pianist playing over and over again pieces for you to perform and memorize, people get out the worst of themselves to sabotage you.

Renjun already let go of it ages ago, he’s twenty one. Whenever he saw tragedy as a child now it's utterly a fond memory, of days he misses where everything was new and exciting before turning into routine. Six years old Donghyuck was jealous of him. Renjun was able to receive a solo part in the group choreography only in the first year, and Lisa would often ask the others to “Do it like Renjun” during practice and that was not sitting well with the small human ball of dressing room energy.

Donghyuck started to pick at his ears, saying they were ugly and he looked like an elf — specifying not the pretty kind of elves. He would stress Renjun over and over with it, while they were in line to do jumps exercises, as soon as their mothers weren't there to hear. Young and very insecure Renjun wanted to quit to avoid hearing any of it again, finding excuses to avoid classes.

He started to pretend he had very painful headaches or stomach aches when he was supposed to go to the academy, and his mother after a week noticed he was lying and something was off. Renjun remembers he was sitting on a bench at the park, not playing with the kids but sticking to her side hiding in his stuffy scarf. Instead of admitting he was being made fun of he told her he wasn't good and he didn't like dance anymore. Which was a big, big lie.

She convinced him back on the dance floor only saying Lisa would be sad to see him leave and aware of how much he as a kid already loved dancing and his teacher he came back ignoring any mean comment, growing the thick skin he has today. That was only the start, Renjun has been through very nasty comments. More so from teachers, which are the ones that if you don’t set your mind to endure them haunting your head, you drown and quit.

His mother confessed only years later what Lisa told her exactly the day she called and said Renjun wanted to quit dance. Already in his first year, Lisa admitted Renjun was one of the best little dancers, if not her top youngest student. That's why she always gave him a space to shine, made him free dancing to express his potential.

Renjun grew confident through the years — and oh so talented. The small meanies from seven year old Donghyuck was also only the start of their rivalry. Their weapons? Impeccable discipline from both sides, never ending practice and proving who really is the best male dancer in the academy. None of them give up to that title.

There aren't many male dancers, and for ballet they're the only ones that are younger and competed for the same categories for years. It's easy to befriend the other boys, and he’s glad Jaemin never stopped dancing because outside the green sliding doors, the two are (almost) inseparable. 

Almost because Jaemin has definitely some romance he’s hiding in the academy walls, and Renjun has narrowed his eyes quite often since he decided to come earlier today, bringing books to study in an empty room and start stretching to be ready for bar exercises later.

He’s in a center split position, stretching his spine forward supporting his fingers flipping pages to underline phrases on his elbows. Jaemin is practicing a piece with Jeno, moving together as if they are one with how close they are on and off stage. Renjun thinks maybe a little too close, as music ends with Jeno bringing Jaemin down from a hold in a kind of artistic hug, noses pressed together and breathing closely in the other’s space. He’s sure stroking Jeno’s cheek is not part of the routine.

He rolls his eyes, just to hide his amusement really. He's happy Jaemin has someone, and having a dancing partner makes it easy because next to you, there's a person who completely understands your whole life and sacrifices. There are many of those. 

They all gave up on the stupidity they could have done in high school, drinking on Saturday nights illegally, sneaking out of the house to party or all the hangouts people like Mark and Chenle did when they could. Renjun always repeated to himself it's discipline, he always preferred dancing to any high school crush to follow and befriend in the evenings but it can't be just that.

It's the endless adrenaline, of being on stage, barely seeing the audience but you know they're right there watching you and it's easy to trick them you're fighting gravity with all the steps and jumps light as feathers, unaware of how many muscles working, pain, tears and injuries are behind those expressive smiles shaped with makeup to be seen far from a theatre velvet seat. 

It always hurts everywhere, Renjun’s body has been on the brink of crumbling often, never giving it proper rest to be better and despite that, when he dances he feels alive. He has a reason, and it stands on pointing your feet and twisting them on the floor in endless fouettes until they bleed if necessary. The hurt and soreness is satisfying, it means he’s closer to achieving his goals, means he’s dancing well.

“Is it for the winter showcase?”. Renjun looks up to the boys, Jaemin nodding with a hand on his chest and Jeno drinking water.

“We still need to practice a lot”.

“You do”. Renjun smiles, cheek in his palm. “It wasn't that bad though”.

Contemporary dance might not be the same as ballet but he can spot some movements to redefine and extend better from their rough first building of the choreography. He doesn't need to say it, Jaemin already knows himself with the unsatisfied expression he has, already practicing a turn he missed before.

“How are things from the pointed shoes hellhole?”. 

Jeno teases, black hair sweeping back with sweat and his appealing smile stretching in all glory just by Renjun’s sigh. They love to point out how miserable it can be from Renjun’s side.

“We all know it's not the girls giving me a permanent headache”.

“Did you come here early to avoid him?”. Jokes Jaemin, panting from rehearsing quickly the choreography, still catching bits of their conversation. Classic Na Jaemin behavior.

“No, I just like you guys better”. Renjun recollects his books, phone signaling he has to be in class in at least ten minutes. He takes his sweatshirt off and they already know he’s leaving, squeezing Jeno’s arm and a mention of his head Jaemin’s way. “Keep up the good work guys, and don't smooch too much”.

“Oh shut up”. Pushes him Jeno, making him cackle. “I bet you wanna kiss Donghyuck so badly”.

“I’d rather lick the greek pitch box instead”. Renjun waves nonchalantly as Jaemin chuckles too, sliding the door closed.

He’s about to leave after morning practice when he receives a call from Lisa. Renjun is a university student, enrolled part time to have a fairly flexible schedule to follow classes, dance scholarships and performances. He always thinks of giving up his studies and his family supports his passion – financially and emotionally. He practically lives at his dance school, going to the faculty only for exams or some mandatory classes he squeezes in his dance career.

The future is unsure, and he pushes his body to the limit, following positions that aren’t natural for a human body and they shape them forcefully to look like it is when they perform on stage. So one of his goals is getting a degree and having a second option just in case his dance career goes to shambles. His body and how it moves is his work, and Renjun has seen other options for people who get severely injured to the point where they can’t dance professionally anymore. 

Lee Taeyong is a clear example of those who lose that career. He became a choreographer for the academy after recovering properly, after years of admiring the man when he caught glimpses of his amazing skills from the practice rooms. Since he was seven and Lisa told him he could become exactly like Taeyong, if not more talented. 

He hasn’t heard Lisa in a long time, except for the times they bump into each other with a smile and both too busy to talk anyway. She tells him she’s sick and attending classes anyway, but needs someone to show the movements to the kids so she can stay at a safe distance. Someone must have told her he already is at the academy, and he’s fond of the woman. He accepts, walking to the desk at the entrance with a water bottle in hand.

His plan was to greet the kids and let them know he's a substitute today, not finding dark blonde locks dipped under the desk rummaging through god knows what. Renjun folds his arms, waiting for the boy to reach the surface again, at an eye level. He gives him a pointed look as Donghyuck, already looking displeased, raises a heavy folder.

Renjun rests his back to the desk, smiling and greeting a few kids, finding Lisa restraining from kissing his cheeks saying he saved her life. She’s around fifty years old, hair turning grey from the roots contrasting to her blonde dyed hair. She looks thin and elegant with her steps, like they all do. Dancers — ballet dancers, you recognize them when they walk. Always tricking eyes as a magic show does, fighting gravity with each step, impossible hearing thumping shoes. That’s what you naturally do once you step into a ballet room. They tell you to forget how to walk and learn how to fly, science allowing or not.

From his peripheral vision he spots Donghyuck lifting in his hands a few photos to inspect them. Pictures from their last showcase in June, he’s most definitely writing down which ones he wants printed. They’re usually the last ones getting those, leaving space to the impatient parents of younger students who want that paper memory and Renjun can’t blame them, if he had a child he’d want that too.

“You look like shit here, don’t print picture 97”. He turns the photo to show him.

“The kids are here”. Renjun gives him a dirty look, turning with a bright smile for a parent he’s seen often. Well, it would be impossible not to notice, the man is handsome. He looks quite young, dimples when he smiles kindly back, brown locks ruffled from the wind; he looks out of a magazine cover. 

He’s holding her daughter’s hand, a little girl he has to teach today with a messy chignon. Under her jacket Renjun spots the light pink stockings and the uniform skirt so he stops the girl, it won’t take long to fix it. 

“Hey, sweetie, do you mind if I do your hair?”. He asks, trying his best not to sound harsh since he’s got told sometimes his answers are bitter. Truth is he doesn’t notice, but today he’s with kids and they easily get hurt, better be careful.

The incredibly attractive dad smiles apologetically as he looks at Renjun. “Sorry, it’s usually her mother doing it, it’s my first time”.

“Ah, don’t worry, it’s actually not bad”. Renjun leans on the counter, pushing Donghyuck’s head to the side and the other smacks his arm, making him smirk. He’s looking for the hairnet, choosing a pink one where he can reach the box and if that’s an occasion to annoy the other he’ll take it. “This helps keep it together, especially if she has straight hair”.

Renjun does the little girl’s hair again, quick with years of practice, the desk a mess of bobby-pins he took out momentarily. Soon it’s all done and neat, making his heart feel at peace. Flaws of perfectionists.

“Thank you, uhm-”.

“Renjun”. He smiles, shaking the man’s hand. “I’m only teaching the kids today and probably for next week, Lisa is sick”. He raises his shoulders, looking at his daughter running with her purple backpack to the changing rooms. “You can go check on her, there’s a lot of mothers but I promise they don’t bite”.

“I’m Jaehyun, and thank you for the warning”. He chuckles with Renjun, disappearing to follow the small girl.

He doesn’t have the time to soak in the interaction that a tangy, slightly nasal voice is back in action. 

“I understand he’s a married dilf but Huang, if this is how you flirt your game is weak”.

“Go back at admiring my pictures”. He slides the photo the boy showed him before to the counter, smacking his lips at Donghyuck who closes the folder with a clear sound.

“I have practice, that’s why I’m here”. Donghyuck stands up, opening his zipper to reveal he is in fact already dressed up, walking ahead of him with the black puffy slippers that also serve as leg warmers they all use. Renjun’s are red. “I’ll take the role for the showcase, we already know”.

“You wish”. Renjun fakes a smile, and walks to slide inside the same old green doors.

Now, Renjun is quite comfortable with his sexuality to the point where no comments can hurt him, but it has been hard. When you’re a dancer, a ballet dancer specifically, you’re stereotyped by incredibly foolish minds that for an insecure person as Renjun was when he started looking more at boys instead of the girls he was surrounded by daily, crushes you.

Making you act like something you’re not, stressing to be what society deems manly but not really ending up considered as such because you dance in tight clothes and stockings and you get convinced it is feminine. Renjun thought about it for long before realizing even if he is, there’s nothing wrong with it. Nothing to be ashamed, no reason for him to avoid wanting a man. 

Being a dancer makes you an athlete, you have strong bodies and even stronger minds to endure everything the dance world entails. They sacrifice the same as a professional football player, work as hard, and if dance isn’t a sport but an art doesn’t mean he is any less of a man. Renjun doesn’t even care, not anymore, after overcoming a lot of internalized stereotypes threading in his brain with manufactured phrases coming from empty brains.

He’ll never admit he thinks it’s cute seeing Jeno all over Jaemin one day in the dressing room, saying pretty words and soothing muscles that are for sure tense and sore, not minding the sweat between them. Jaemin’s eyes are half closed from the way he stares fondly at Jeno talking about something he’s probably not really listening to, looking like they’re about to kiss at any moment. 

They’re adorable, and Renjun wants that too for himself, and often he’s been afraid that dating someone not belonging to his world will create misunderstandings.

It happens often to see couples at the dance studio, dance partners who realize they feel more than good chemistry as they work together, that’s usually how it happens. Renjun hasn’t found that same dance romance, had a few relationships he couldn’t give an effort to make them work because he does not have time.

It’s sad, he often complains about it with Jaemin but seeing how happy he is with Jeno — whatever relationship they have he feels like a mood breaker for bringing it up, so he doesn’t anymore. It’s okay, he thinks, shivering a little, taking off his sweater to practice on another uneventful day.

Renjun has a free hour before class, and he’s still bitter about Donghyuck dancing beautifully with his partner yesterday, while he didn’t go as well, stumbling a few times a beat late and having trouble holding his ballerina for the routine. He probably should attend the gym more, recently he’s been lacking time to dance catching up with study and it shows on his performances.

He’s disappointed, and can’t really stand Donghyuck being better than him, sighing purposefully to let him know he’s not welcome when he steps in the same room. Obviously the other doesn’t care, settling his water bottle and cardigan on the floor, hands on his hips and a twitching eyebrow. Same cocky look he likes to show him everyday since they were kids.

He scoffs, plump darker lips resembling a heart shape, round face for even softer features despite the very strong expressions and how sharp his eyes can get with a look, warm brown enclosed in a round and elongated shape. Donghyuck is good looking, grew into a handsome man and he knows it himself, somehow unfair how such a soft face and voice betrays all the nasty coming out of his mouth. 

It’s a contradictory curse to Renjun, and he almost automatically shuts off his ears and brain when the other speaks.

“I knew you’d be here”. He says, walking closer to where Renjun stands catching his breath. He’s waiting for the rest, for the salty outcome or something vaguely insulting, the boy is usually very creative. “Start from the top”.

“Huh?”. 

Renjun does it anyway. He starts the routine, Donghyuck counting and scolding him a few times because he is in fact late again, doing a double sequence of pas de bourree that shouldn’t be there, and for each mistake he asks him to start again, back on his loud eight counts.

“Why do you keep making mistakes?”.

“I’ve been busy with uni, I’m a student, Lee”. Renjun sighs, turning to the boy instead of locking eyes through the mirror. “I have to study, I have a life”.

“This is your life. And you’re slacking”. Donghyuck rolls his eyes, pointing his feet perfectly to the hard wooden. “You also held Yeri the wrong way. You block her movements so high on the waist”.

“I’m aware I was shit yesterday”. Renjun keeps repeating the routine, fifth position and growing frustrated even if this time is better, pretending to lift and guide Yeri.

“I’ll show you”. Donghyuck grabs his arm to have him closer, but the hold around his waist is gentler, almost nonexistent. “Do you know the ballerina’s part, don’t you?”. 

Renjun nods, of course he does. He has to know what she’s going to do, it’s like learning two choreographies in a pas de deux. You need to know your partner's moves like your own, there needs to be chemistry and he’s lucky he and Yeri have been friends for long to be familiar with how they dance.

They start dancing, and Donghyuck lifts him closer to his hips like he suggested, and from the other side’s perspective he can tell it is better. Renjun is of petite size, he’s thin and he builds lean muscles, unlike the other boys he sees that tend to slightly bulk up on their thighs and calves. Renjun is blessed apparently, a frame like his gives more the illusion of how feather like ballet moves are, when he is all but weak.

He can tell it’s probably slightly harder for Donghyuck to lift him but he’s strong and they go through the first half of the choreography, one last lift where Renjun does an arabesque and they stop, resting his hands on the boy’s shoulder.

They don’t move for a few seconds, both too concentrated catching their breaths. Donghyuck’s shoulders are firm, digits feeling muscles under the soft fabric of his body, tired knees bending against his in a rough sliding of pale stockings. They kind of do not match with Donghyuck’s golden skin, usually glowing under stage lights. Renjun looks up from his lowered head, stepping away.

“Why are you helping me?”.

“I like competition”. Donghyuck gives him a brief sly smile, wanders his eyes around before they settle on Renjun. “And it’s too easy if you suck”.

“Mh, I’ll take the compliment”. Renjun winks, stretching his back before picking up his bag to leave. In Donghyuck’s language, to which he is particularly familiar, this means he’s good. Talented to be considered competition, and they have always been the two top students, stealing each other’s opportunities with fair or less fair ways.

Renjun realizes they left the door widely opened, well, Donghyuck did. It’s okay, there’s a few parents who probably watched them curiously from the waiting room and there was no music to disturb anyone else. There’s a man around his same height, feline eyes scanning him as he exits the room and a body so lean and impeccable posture he immediately recognizes he’s a dancer. He doesn’t say anything, and Renjun is not interested in engaging conversations. He walks to class, Donghyuck following behind after a couple minutes.

He’s with his left leg on the bar and his spine stretching towards it, right arm accompanying the movement as the same man from before enters their room. He spots Maki, the pianist coming from Japan who still plays for them since he was a child giving a quick glance at the man and their teacher who gestures to keep playing, and from the nervous look they have Renjun now regrets not sharing a word with the man.

Who is he? Hopefully someone interesting, these days have been boring. He turns around the bar into an arabesque, arm extending in front of him before he bends his spine back and straighter, detaching the leg from the bar and he feels the slight usual burn of the tense muscles keeping the position. He ends the exercise with his feet in fourth position, turning graciously towards his teacher because that’s how she likes it.

Turns out the man is a famous young choreographer from Bangkok city ballet, well known for his amazing pieces. He’s coming all the way here to cast some people as protagonists of his next shows in the city. There’s a collaboration going on with the academy, and it will be beneficial for both. The man, his name of art is Ten, will get more recognition here and them as students will have another opportunity to be under big names’ eyes when the show is going to happen.

It’s mindless, his eyes fall on Donghyuck, finding that glint meaning only one thing. The best one gets the role. The routine they practice before gets forgotten in that moment, given them an hour to learn a small piece of one part of Ten’s — still on the creative phase show. They’re paired up randomly, and Renjun is pleased to find out he’s dancing with Julia. She joined them later but there’s many good dancers admitted here, and she’s one of those.

Renjun is confident, and a challenge set so suddenly is exactly what he needed to bring out some fire out of him.

There aren’t as many men in their class, so a few girls get paired up together and they’re gladly surprised to find out not many movements require the strength and handle of male dancers to lift ballerinas. It’s more about synchronization, and the music fits more a contemporary style in some parts but their movements are exactly belonging to ballet.

Interesting, and they soon start performing in front of Ten, walking around the room to watch them meticulously from every angle. They dance in two groups a second time, so he can take another look but he seems already decided on who he wants, Renjun can tell from the less driven look in his eyes the second time he watches them dancing.

So Renjun’s heart might be beating frantically but his face doesn’t betray any insecurity, he knows that’s what professionals like to see. Stone cold faces unless they’re performing. That’s part of a formation that shaped him this way, but his eyes slightly widen when the man speaks.

“You”. He points at Donghyuck, pressing his lips in his victory and Renjun has already given up even if the man gets right in front of him, lifting the corner of his mouth in what is supposed to be a smile, albeit Ten looks like he could burn him with a glance. “And you”.

Renjun frowns, confused more than anything else. “Wait, is this your protagonists’ choice?”.

“Might be, and might change my whole plan. I want you two to perform again together what you just did with your partners”. Ten walks closer to his ear, whispering. “I caught potential earlier”.

Renjun bites his lip, stepping closer to Donghyuck to dance, face to face. The other seems surprised as he is, and it gives him an odd sense of relief to know he’s not alone with this. He can already spot some of the girls giving him heavier looks, tight angry fists hidden behind their long and thin legs, some grimacing.

He’s used to it, so he briefly closes his eyes and starts dancing when the music starts. It might be for the piece not really specific for two different genders' dynamics dancing to it, but it’s incredibly easy dancing with Donghyuck. They’re around the same height, there’s not an ashamed eye contact as they graze through movements because they’re falling into character and they’re here to impress the choreographer.

The piece kind of fits them, if he’s honest. It’s a synchronized chasing, where heads turn fast with pirouettes and high battement cross with their practiced elegance. Ten stares at them, deep eyes revealing satisfaction as they’re waiting for an answer after finishing the piece.

“I made my choice”. Ten looks at their dance teacher, she smiles immediately looking at him. “Your names?”.

“Renjun”. Donghyuck says, shaking his head, still breathing tired. “I mean, he’s Renjun. I’m Donghyuck”.

“Good. Renjun, Donghyuck and everyone, I’m coming back in a few weeks to start”. Ten nods at them and turns to their teacher, looking like a more reserved conversation but the man doesn’t whisper in the quiet room, saying he’s changing most of his initial plan for the production. They’re all soon back to their routine, this time with an internal satisfaction he’ll consume on his own. Maybe he’ll tell Jaemin.

If discipline means self control to stone cold faces and bottling everything up to always be adequate, sometimes - most times, it means shutting up. With the news of them being casted as main characters of Ten’s production, the pressure on them is on a crazy level.

Jealousy, people you consider friends who hope you’ll twist your ankle or get an injury to replace you and get the spotlight. Their teachers are particularly mean to them for stress. You represent not only your own talent, but your entire academy’s reputation and formations made of values, same old discipline and appearance. You need to be fit, charismatic and charming off stage if you’re representing the academy.

It’s another day of the week spent dancing, and another one of their teachers seem particularly keen to pick on them today. Renjun apparently is doing nothing right, always being corrected with everything he does which in a way it’s good and better than being ignored and seeing no improvement at the end of the month. They’re here for a reason, and it’s ballet anyway. Rarely someone is going to make you feel like you’re enough or you did something almost perfect.

If you dance truly amazingly, they’ll tell you it was good but you can do better. Always pushing to the limit, flying closer to the moon. 

Renjun wants to roll his eyes, the man is nervous and apparently a big admirer of Ten’s works. Impressive considering how young the thai man is, but their teacher is a simple professional teacher of a school, not one of the big names and their opinions are the ones that really matter.

It’s nothing out of the ordinary, nothing he’s never heard in the past years or two days ago but the man calls Donghyuck fat. That he needs to lose way more weight for the show because his stomach looks too soft. None of them is close to fat, they might all be too skinny for all that matters.

In a healthy habit that doesn’t belong to dance, Renjun often notices how bony he is, thankful for all the muscles he has supporting his edgy sides. He often admired and envied Donghyuck’s body. It’s healthier than most, still lean and he always looks like he’s being kissed by the sun, like he is its secret lover.

It’s nothing none of them ever heard, still today Renjun is less tolerating of it. His throat itches to say something, defend Donghyuck. Sure, who wouldn’t, it’s shitty to hear these kinds of stuff. He sees hurt flashing in the young man’s eyes, and times feels endless before class ends and he can try to say something remotely comforting to him.

They all know their teacher is stressed and going mad, to the point where he bodyshames his students who always take care of themselves to keep their bodies like their world wants, made of parquet floors and consumed dance shoes.

Renjun hesitates, waiting with his crossed arms in the waiting rooms. Wearing jeans in his crossed legs, a beanie and his scarf so thick he almost disappears in it. He watches everyone slowly leave, until he spots Donghyuck and stands up, following him outside. This is weird, he never says anything nice to him and so the other. They’re going to work together, somehow Renjun feels like he should.

“Hey”. Donghyuck turns towards him, sighing before Renjun can say anything else.

“If you’re here to tell me he’s a crazy asshole and I don’t need to lose weight, save it”. Donghyuck licks his reddened lips, humid air falling out of his mouth with how cold it is. “I’ve neglected my diet recently, I need to get back on track, he’s right”.

“We’re here all day, I don’t think a few more carbs are going to kill you”. Renjun sighs, getting close to his car, sure the other is going to cut the conversation soon.

“Not all of us have your body, Huang”. Donghyuck narrows his eyes, probably frustrated with his lack of reaction, Renjun knows him. They never truly went well along but they’ve been in the same dance academy for fourteen years. “And congrats to us, I guess. Don’t make me look bad”.

“Then practice harder”. Renjun shakes his head, bringing out his car keys. “Night Lee”.

“Huang”. He mentions his head, walking to his light blue scooter, helmet in hand.

They soon start working with Ten, and somehow the severe practicing makes Renjun want to quit university, often staring at the study abandonment request he has on the online site of his faculty. As he’s doing right now, spacing out in the dressing rooms staring at the screen, instead of getting ready as he always does, one hour earlier to stretch properly at his own time. It’s his best way to avoid getting injured or with a strained muscle which is a pain in the ass to recover from. They don’t give it time to recover, dancing on top of it until it becomes worse, he’s familiar with it.

Donghyuck finds him there, sitting on the floor and back resting to the bench, phone in his hands. He kicks his knee with a socked foot, glancing up to the boy only wearing boxers and taking clothes out of his bag. Renjun rests his tongue to the side of his cheek, slightly gaping and unbothered by the boy.

“What?”. He asks, locking his phone. 

“Are you sweeping the floor with your ass all evening or are we practicing for the show?”.

Renjun scoffs, getting up to take off his clothes, taking a glimpse of Donghyuck who’s only got his stockings on. “What about you? Are you trying to freeze to death or something?”.

Donghyuck glances down at Renjun’s bare chest, lifting his eyebrows. “Or something”.

Renjun pushes him by his stomach, and Donghyuck is impossibly warm. He hisses, and it’s most definitely for his freezing hands, Renjun is always dead cold Jaemin often jokes telling him he’s a vampire.

When Donghyuck was younger, he boldly said he loves to make Renjun mad. They were around middle school age, with voice cracking and bodies changing, where the other was truly insufferable, to the point he had to step up his game and honestly, his rivalry with Lee Donghyuck helped him become good at snapping back and answering people boldly. 

They always push each other’s buttons, finding pleasure discovering a weak spot to exasperate the other with, and even if bothersome he knows there’s a mad part of them enjoying it. He’s sure it’s not only Renjun perceiving it.

A confirmation comes from Ten, who points that out about them and says it’s their strong point, where they need to work for the performance. It’s a slightly provocative piece, about two ex lovers meeting again and all the nightmares of memories about their past relationship. There are lighter pieces for the good memories and more dramatic ones for the reasons why they broke up. They meet again in one last night of passion — or as Donghyuck calls it ruining the poetry behind it, they have one night stand and a walk of shame.

Provocative and Renjun is also enthusiastic about Ten proposing a two men relationship to the public, seeing something different in the traditional walls of ballet made his eyes glint when Ten shared the story they have to interpret. He’s also nervous, unsure he can show any kind of passion with Donghyuck.

For the sake of art, and dance, they’ll pretend. Today they’re trying the specific last piece, learning it before anything else because that’s what they work on the most when they’re alone without all dancers. It’s the crucial part of the show, the last scene and Ten wants it to be perfect, reasonably. 

The freezing cold of the dressing rooms gets replaced with overworked breathing and Ten encourages them to do more, sounding an ounce softer when he’s alone with them — for as much as a dance teacher can be soft, of course.

“You have to be bold”. He pushes Renjun closer to Donghyuck’s chest, fixes his arms supposed to latch around the boy’s neck as his spine bends back to the audience. “Hold him like you want him, Donghyuck”. Ten shares a look with them, claps his hands once in front of their faces. “From the top”.

The music is a dramatic violin solo, and Renjun’s head feels dizzy as he moves, following steps and listening to Ten anticipating the movements they have to make, pointing out their mistakes and Renjun is making a lot of those. He’s hot all over, and as he latches his arm around Donghyuck’s neck like he’s supposed to in the part they talked about before, his spine collapses back not gripping anymore at him. He feels Donghyuck’s palms secured on his back, holding him down to the floor, calling his name.

“Hey, Renjun, hey don’t close your eyes”. Donghyuck’s hand is behind his hair to avoid the hard floor and another one cups his cheek, slapping it mildly to let his eyes stay open. His voice sounds nervous and Ten is there as well, feeling his forehead which is sweaty and burning hot.

“Shit, I think he has a fever”. Ten swats his hand out, helping him to sit. “Renjun you’re burning”.

“It’s okay”. He croaks out, trying to get up but he’s so dizzy. “I have medicines in my bag, let’s not lose a day of practice because of me”.

Renjun’s back rests on the mirrored wall, sorry and sad eyes as he looks at Donghyuck doing his part alone with the music. He’s hugged in two layers of clothes, red cheeks and burning eyes, waiting for the pills to have an effect so he can at least follow the routine next to the boy.

It’s a bunch of minutes later that he stands up again, stretching his creaking neck. He gets closer to Donghyuck and picks up from where he’s dancing, watching the other sending a scolding glare. His legs tremble more than normal, but he keeps going, bending one knee, Donghyuck under him laying on the floor supposed to bring him down closer to him by his hips, for the last part of the choreography.

Their faces are close, probably the closest he’s ever been to him, and when the music fades he loses balance, crashing to Donghyuck’s chest, again extremely tired. He slightly gasps feeling the boy’s arms around him, soothing his spine and he feels his heartbeat beating loud against his chest after dancing in his condition.

“That’s enough, Renjun. Go home and rest, you’ll feel worse if you don’t”. 

Renjun nods, making a tired noise feeling Donghyuck’s hand at his nape that seems extremely cold now, sighing even colder air to his neck. 

“You okay?”.

“Yeah, sorry”. He stands up, awkwardly looking everywhere else but Donghyuck. “I’m going home”.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to drive?”.

“Since when do you care?”.

“We’re partners, Renjun. I do care, it’s not about competition right now, we have to be together or it won’t work. I know it won’t with someone else”.

Renjun is flustered, empty blinking at him. He’s probably really sick and hearing wrong things, or Donghyuck just said there’s not someone who can replace him well in this. He manages a smile, and nods. He can drive, if he’s not dancing he has enough strength to concentrate on the road. And it’s also probably the fever he has when he looks in the rearview mirror at his blushed cheeks, thinking again of what Donghyuck said.

“So you’re best friends now?”. Jeno asks, inhaling his lunch in the waiting room. It’s just a salad and a sad wholemeal piece of bread, but they’re all preparing for performances and it makes sense. Renjun knows Jeno eats extremely healthy only at the academy, he has more consistent meals than that. Still his body is great, and Jaemin often complains about it.  
Renjun feels better, he has to skip a stage and he’s butthurt about it, but at least he has the energy to prepare for Ten’s show after two days of lazing in bed with homemade meals. That’s why he’s here a lot earlier than usual, standing later in a practice room with his legs stretched in a split against the wall laying on his stomach to the floor as he catches up with Jeno, who happens to be there helping the secretary sewing pointe shoes for the older girls.

He likes the idea, getting a couple of those from the box and keeps up his painful stretching pressing to the wall, holding needle and thread in hand, eyes narrowing in concentration. Donghyuck comes in, greets Jeno friendly and squats in front of Renjun.

“Help me stretch”.

“Sure”.

Donghyuck doesn’t even need it, he’s elastic and probably already warmed up, leg easily falling with his ankle next to his head where he’s laying on the floor, Renjun bringing it down keeping with one knee the other leg pressed to the floor and the other extending closer to his face. They used to push each other badly and painfully when they were younger paired up together to stretch, they don’t do it anymore nowadays.

They learned how to do it themselves, and he’s expecting something tricky out of his mouth since this is occurring. Donghyuck simply asks him if he’s good and ready to rehearse. Jaemin joins them later, hearing from Jeno he needs help sewing the shoes. Today they have an audience.

They’re more energized, Donghyuck most definitely didn’t practice alone these two days but they remember all well, hearing Jaemin whistling at some point, as Donghyuck lifts Renjun for a jeté. Maybe it's because they’re more relaxed, but Renjun can feel they’re acting through it, and this time he shivers when Donghyuck holds him. He feels wanted, as if it is their last dance, last moment to be touched by him before they depart, like the two ex lovers they’re acting to be.

They share a look, a long one, beyond the music, to his own breath itching from how intense and unexpected it is. He clears his throat and gets off Donghyuck when their friends are clapping, impressed faces and Jaemin tilts his head towards the blond direction with wiggling eyebrows, and Renjun wants to kill him.

“What is this play about? Angsty gays being dramatic?”.

“Kind of”. Donghyuck laughs, elbowing Renjun. “Not too far from the truth”.

“Shut up for once”. Renjun scoffs as they all laugh, but he’s only trying to scroll off that weird twisting of his stomach. 

They ended their class with Ten late. The dressing rooms are empty, and there’s hardly anyone besides someone cleaning the classrooms and the secretary finishing up some work. The waiting room lights are already off, there’s an occasional turned light where the floors are being swept clean and the pianos dusted off impeccably to the shiny black color.

Life feels slow, and Renjun has sore and hurt seeping in his muscles, stirring a bit as he takes off his clothes, Donghyuck at the other end of the bench doing the same. Today has been kind of intense, and he feels ashamed for the way he kept looking for that sparkle as they danced, and he found it again — making Ten particularly excited and satisfied with them. He’s kinder than others, shares a good word when they do well and it’s refreshing, he can tell they’re both content despite their now dragged steps to avoid wincing in pain.

“Imagine if we don’t have clothes for the performance and we’re naked, knowing Ten it’s possible”. Donghyuck chuckles, that’s the most friendly tone he’s ever heard from him. He doesn’t question it, just goes along and laughs too.

“Well, technically we’re having sex or we’re victims of our nightmares in every scene, it wouldn’t be that absurd”.

Donghyuck looks at him, resting his back to the wall, pursuing his lips. “Wanna try and dance like this to know how it feels?”.

Renjun gapes, huffing a laugh out. He shrugs his shoulders, fingers fumbling with the bag, nipping unconsciously his lips. “Uhm, sure”.

Donghyuck smells of deodorant. Hiding the musk of sweat, of sticking skin and consumed bodies against all human laws to stretch the way they do, ribs against ribs, nape creased from his finger curling there strongly. The other’s hands sliding through his spine that make him twitch in his hold not used to the bare contact. And he probably smells the same as he gasps after bending his spine in Donghyuck’s hands like they’ve done hundreds of times by now, Donghyuck’s bold nose stroking his throat until he comes back up and looks at him.

They’re not rehearsing shit, he glances down the boy’s lips and looks back at Donghyuck, his eyes glinting in the glowing dark of their dressing room. Someone turned the lights off, again.

“What, Lee? Are you about to kiss me?”.

“You wish, Huang”. 

Renjun opens his mouth to Donghyuck’s tongue, a broken groan as he immediately answers, head fogged with whatever feeling this is. Good, extremely good he circles both arms around his neck, a knee bending between Donghyuck’s legs. He doesn’t think, his mind and mouth don’t allow thinking, losing his breath as he keeps looking for his lips, soft, sinking under his teeth.

He slightly pulls Donghyuck’s hair, both gasping for air. Donghyuck’s eyes are blown, his plump lips caught with Renjun’s saliva and he does trace his tongue again through his bottom lip, another kiss. A lingering press, longer than what he’s been harboring since that morning.

“Are we good?”. He asks, voice airy and a bit gone. 

“Are we? Yeah, shit, I think we are”. Donghyuck chuckles, threading a hand through his brown hair.

It’s quite awkward dressing up to leave the academy and saying goodbye. Renjun clings a finger on his lips as he’s been burned, sitting in the car and watching Donghyuck disappear on his scooter.

Ten can tell there's something going on, he sees it in his fixed eyes on them the next day they're rehearsing and learning a segment of one of his character’s nightmares. There are ballerinas moving in circles around him in his ‘solo’ part pointing their shoes to the ground in a stronger sound, slowly breaking boundaries of ballet and Renjun thinks there's only the familiar movements he’s done for a lifetime, the feeling is completely different. A different kind of art.

His feet lightly touch the floor, grazing it, moving away from Donghyuck who follows him into the circle, arms intertwining in a sequence and losing the hold with a few turns, Donghyuck’s hands pretending to support his waist with the movements. They’re tense, but it fits the atmosphere of that one track they’re dancing to, Renjun holding his hand for the next step but music stops, and he detaches to stand and listen to Ten listing all they did wrong.

He calls for a break, everyone leaving the room but them. Ten has his chin hooked under his knee, looking extremely youthful for his age. It might be his small frame, even thinner wearing black and smelling of an expensive strong cologne mixing with the marred air of the room.

“You guys should kiss, I think It’d help you”. Ten doesn’t back up from them clearly demanding an explanation when the man looks unfazed, moving a hand in dismissal. “If it doesn’t make you uncomfortable, sure. I don’t mean making out in front of me, that’s inappropriate. You can just play a little more if you want to”.

“Could you give us an example of what you mean by playing a little more?”. Donghyuck grimaces, more trying to understand than anything else. And Renjun would scoff at him if it is for disgust, not when they were kissing almost completely naked yesterday.

“Act like ex lovers, people who have passion. You’re doing well with it, I’m not saying that, but graze your lips, deepen your touches, fill the spaces the music gives you. Especially in the nightmares, you’re haunted by memories of your past love”. 

They do. He feels judged at first, all their classmates are dancing with them but when Donghyuck rolls his head with a hand on Renjun’s chest, both delicately turning their heads to the right and his finger hooks and as he tugs his leotard down to expose his chest a little more he gets an inkling of what Ten means.

It starts making sense, he feels he’s telling a story and at the same time he’s finding that burning want at the tip of his fingers, at the end of his quick taquetè where he escapes from the thoughts of Donghyuck’s character but the real Renjun wants to be found, to be taken again by whichever Donghyuck.

Renjun comes out of the practice room upset, body shivering with a jittery itch too strong to ignore. He’s been hating Donghyuck his entire life, okay, hate is one big word but it makes no sense his heart jumps in his throat when the young man takes his wrist, apologetic face falling as their eyes meet.

“I’m sorry, Renjun”.

He shakes his head, looks at some parents watching them because they’re in the middle of the waiting room, and he pulls him somewhere private, as private another empty room with sliding doors anyone can open at any time can be.

“And I’m not”. Renjun lets their hold go, pressing his lips together. “Look, I don’t know what was it that we did yesterday but it was nice, okay? Let’s keep it nice and easy that way, please”.

He strokes his cheek, thumb stopping at his lips and he has to swallow down a thick lump to breathe. Donghyuck’s palm sneaks behind his back to push him closer, and there’s a sigh as they kiss again, after thinking about it all night, nervously shifting in his bed trying to shut the feeling out. 

Renjun doesn’t let it go, legs hooked around Donghyuck’s waist as the other brings him in his arms to the piano, settling between his legs once he’s sitting. Renjun chuckles slightly panting, as Donghyuck tries to thread his fingers under fabrics to touch his body but everything it’s too tight and fitting because they’re dancers and their bodies need to show under the thin layers of their clothes.

He gives up, kissing his jaw with a hand secured around his nape. “This damn leotard”. Renjun keeps laughing, one aroused noise as the other keeps giving sloppy kisses through the line of his jaw. He slides his palms further on Donghyuck’s back until he grips at soft skin, moving him closer to reach for more contact, finding something that makes them moan.

This is definitely their worst idea, wearing the clothes they have and getting turned on in a public place, but Renjun has really only seen Donghyuck inside these walls his entire life, occasionally outside for dance contests or scholarship they did together at the same academy in another country. They didn’t go out together during those trips, both with their distinct groups of people. 

It doesn’t matter, it can’t when Renjun is almost laying on the piano's smooth black surface, pushing Donghyuck closer with his legs around him as he cranes his neck for another bite there, not noticing the doors that slide so silently.

“Fuck, guys, these doors can’t be locked. I can’t believe my eyes”. 

Renjun shoots up from the hold on Donghyuck’s waist and the strength of his own abs, hands at his sides and closed legs immediately as he hears Jaemin’s low voice, smiling stupidly at them, pointing a finger between them two.

“What is this? This looks fun”.

“This is not your business”. Renjun rolls his eyes, getting off the piano and tugging Donghyuck by his hand. “Think about asking Jeno out, officially”.

“Mean”. Jaemin pouts, walking across the room looking for something they don’t care about because they’re already out of the room.

It becomes intense, Renjun being swallowed by something bigger than him, something he hasn’t felt in long and not even close to this extent. There’s not enough times where they wait until everyone leaves the dressing room to kiss, blooming hickeys where they shouldn’t in matching places that have Ten twitching suspiciously an eyebrow their way. 

The choreography expressiveness is all over the place, feeling feverish with something he can’t sweat out. It stays there, in the kiss totally unplanned Renjun lingers on Donghyuck’s neck during one of their pas de deux, hands trying to uncover skin when no one is looking and the shivers, so many of those.

Renjun is turning crazy and one late evening all of this is not enough so he’s straddling Donghyuck in his car’s backseat, feeling free to leave noises and it doesn’t matter if it’s freezing when the other is mapping lips to his collarbones taking his shirt off. 

“We’re insane, are you aware?”. Renjun pants, grinding down to their clothed bodies. They won’t do anything in here, that’s for sure, this is already maddening. It’s late, they’re in a car without obscured windows and everyone can walk in and see them.

Also his hip bones hurt, snapping often in ugly sounds as he did battemens today on the bar, sore muscles bringing him down to just rock his hips against Donghyuck, unable to do more but the other seems okay with it, plainly gaping in his mouth. 

“Does it matter? We’ve been fighting for years and this is what we come up with to cease it”. 

“You’re right”. Renjun chuckles, sliding his hands under Donghyuck sweats, doing nothing more than palm his underwear, giving himself confirmation this is what they are now. “Too bad we can’t do more”.

Renjun’s body hurts too much, he weakly keeps up their dry pace, shutting his eyes close in pain, feeling all his muscles pulling as he leaves a brief sob pressing his mouth on Donghyuck’s cheek.

“Wanna go to mine? Can’t promise we'll do something, you’re hurting too much”. Donghyuck sinks his digits to his inner thighs, trying to give him a small massage there, glancing down their bodies. Renjun sighs and calms his feverish trembling, pressing their foreheads together and he nods, playing with the boy's hair.

“Are you sure? I'll just be a burden if you bring my sore ass home”.

“You can drive us to class tomorrow morning and also bring me back to my scooter”.

“Fine”. Renjun blushes, unsure why he gets shy, hands on top of Donghyuck’s ones soothing his tense body. “If I drive, can you keep doing this to yours? It feels good”.

Renjun keeps blushing, wearing one of Donghyuck’s shirts to sleep sitting on the other’s bed. He lives alone, in a small apartment that is warmer than the boy’s skin, enough to not be cold in a big short sleeved shirt and underwear only, fit of noises in appreciation at Donghyuck’s massaging hands.

His back lays on his chest sitting between his legs, Donghyuck using an anti-inflammatory cream he says does miracles. Renjun closes his eyes, sometimes whines in pain at the pressing digits but if there’s someone who can understand, it is Donghyuck. That’s the best part; not having to explain why he doesn’t quit when it hurts so much and brings his body to never ending ache, never hearing a suggestion as foolish as “If it hurts this much, just stop”.

Instead Donghyuck tells him they’ll do better tomorrow, and they’re going to bring their names and Ten’s high with this production. Renjun feels comforted, running a hand through Donghyuck’s leg with gratitude, astonishing silence and an odd affection he feels for him in that moment. He feels how Donghyuck truly is his dance partner, and he's going to protect them, truce to their past.

He wakes up, heavy eyes trying to adjust to light, a few pained sounds living his mouth first thing in the morning as he tries to shift to the other side of the bed, catching Donghyuck sleeping. His soft features are even softer when his cheeks are puffed out in quiet snores, lashes hiding lively eyes. Renjun sinks more in the blanket, takes a moment to memorize the view.

Morning is slow. Questionable, because he can’t help but ask himself what does it mean. Donghyuck was extremely kind to let him crash at his place, without asking anything in return. Actually he’s done so much for him in only one day he feels guilty drinking his tea from his mug and sitting on the boy’s stool in his kitchen. 

“Do you have a toothbrush? I really didn’t think this through”. Renjun laughs, voice hoarse and embarrassed. He feels a burden. 

Donghyuck smiles, munching on a dietetic cookie. He has two of those in his plate, and Renjun wrinkles his nose at the sight. He doesn’t need to lose weight, their teacher is stupid. He stands up, brings out a new brush and towels for him, piling them next to the sink and rests against the white ceramic.

“All yours”. Donghyuck hesitates before holding his arm, gently brushing a thumb on his skin soaking sleep. “Our first show is coming soon. We’ll probably finish later than usual like yesterday and you can stay here if you want to. My apartment is closer”.

“I can’t accept, come on”. Renjun sighs, gestures between them. “What is this? We can’t even call it”.

Donghyuck’s eyes are sparkling. Hopeful, a kind of hope he sees only in children dripping naivety and optimism. It’s pretty, it sparkles dazzling in his eyes. 

“Do you wanna try? For our chemistry, for the show”.

“Donghyuck, I do everything in my life for dance. If we’re willing to try, I want this for us, just us having something good together”. Renjun lifts the corner of his mouth in a smile, cheeks shaping in a nervous grin. “We both sacrificed our entire lives for dance, and we get each other”.

“Then let’s do it for us”. Donghyuck brings him closer by his hips, carefully to not hurt the edgy bones. Renjun moves easily, not a ounce of reluctance, he wants to be pressed to Donghyuck’s warmth. “I know it’s sudden, thinking about how we were before we got paired in this project makes the whole thing more absurd but isn’t it good?”.

Renjun smiles, closing his eyes briefly as Donghyuck grazes their noses together, pulling out to look at him. “We got this amazing chance to realize we do match. I really like you Renjun, I’d like to see how it goes, if you want to. No time running to find a proper answer and no hard feelings if it doesn’t work”.

“I think I like you a lot too, Hyuck. Do you like Hyuck?”.

Donghyuck smirks, biting his bottom lip, his cheeks are already curving in a smile. “You think?”.

“I’m sure”. Renjun leans in, finding that practice room unexpected romance with the last person he could ever end up with. Life is weird, is all he can think as he teases Donghyuck’s lower lip with his tongue looking for a languid morning kiss, one gladly reciprocated, with hands as gentle as the way they dance falling and memorizing different patterns of skin.

All of his life Renjun has been doing things for dance. Missed normal bits of life, felt out of place for skipping considered important steps or being left behind with the usual timings kids or teens his age did things. First kiss, first cup of alcohol, taking his driver's license or even finishing university — Renjun has to quit, unexpectedly disappearing for six months in a tour of Ten’s production after the first show receives shocking feedback and popularity.

Him and Donghyuck are Ten’s jewels, as magazines and medias describe them, dancing every night together, never tired enough to consume two mutual passions for an audience to watch. The thrill of touching his real lover, moving as one to the music and holding hands behind the scenes after a performance. Falling on his chest with the very last part of the choreography and the show, kissing him senseless once the curtains fall and everyone is clapping behind it.

The shiny, velvety red of theaters they take a sit after rehearsals admiring a different point of view, golden details and burning lights of daily different stages, the slight inclination of wooden absorbing scrapes and ghosts of past performances. Counting on a shoulder to sleep on during bus rides, sharing comfort and trust when things get rough, allowing to be weak and emotional in their arms. Keeping Donghyuck closer turns into a blessing for him, for the harboring love in the shape of lips and warm hands tangled everywhere they go.

Crowds witnessing what they have so beautiful and glowing more than any stage light pointed their way, all real details of lips stroking together during a performance, fingers chasing the other in the now almost natural movements their muscles know by heart. Lots are curious, they wonder often if their chemistry hides something more, something that music and the stage framing their dancing bodies alone can’t tell.

When some interviewers ask him if he and Donghyuck have a special bond that goes beyond being dance partners he only shrugs his shoulders with an evasive smile. This is not for dance to know, albeit their roots settle in the parquet of their dance academy, where they always belong. 

This is for them, for their hearts only to keep those secrets they share in the dark, in another city, bare of clothes and touching with a finger everything that hides under a body that forgot how to walk and learned how to fly in order to follow their dreams.

Renjun towards the end of the tour, the promise of walking back to the academy where this chance presented to them, shares the biggest secret inflating so big in his chest he can’t keep it anymore. He threads a hand under Donghyuck’s shirt to truly hold him close, pressing lips to his ear and smiles brightly at the eyes drooping sweetly in his.

“The day my body is going to lose everyday more the fight to gravity, I don’t mind being grounded here if it’s with you”.

**Author's Note:**

> if you're here, thank you so much <3
> 
> for anything else, i'm here: [twitter](https://twitter.com/jenlvbug) [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/ir02ne)


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